


call to the wild

by ShatterinSeconds



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Cheerleader Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fae Allura (Voltron), Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), they may have only been dating for a week but it's so clear they love each other, veterinarian shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterinSeconds/pseuds/ShatterinSeconds
Summary: Wearing a large grin, Lance slowly pries Keith’s hands away from that pretty, pretty face only to be met with a harsh glare and cute pouting lips. He pushes Keith’s long bangs away from his face, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “One of the perks of dating me is my stellar jokes, now dog themed. Get used to it, sweetheart.”“I want a divorce.”Lance continues to grin, leaning closer to say, “You have to marry me first,” before he captures Keith’s lips in a soft kiss. Keith whines when Lance pulls away again, lifting his head to chase after Lance.(or Keith is a werewolf and Lance makes sure to tease him at every opportunity)
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 90
Kudos: 580





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from watching the Disney channel original movie Zombies 2. This is nothing like the movie, but it made me want to write werewolf!Keith and kinda cheerleader!Lance. 
> 
> Anyways the title of this fic is my favorite song from the movie. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this random, unexpected AU:)

“You smell like a wet dog,” Lance remarks as he ignores the sweat on Keith’s skin, kissing up his jawline. He nuzzles his nose into Keith’s hair and revels in the underlying scent of his lavender shampoo.

A deep, exasperated groan rumbles in Keith’s throat and Lance doesn’t even attempt to withhold his smirk. He knows Keith can feel it against his skin. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m a werewolf.” Keith’s hands leave Lance’s body--a shame really; his skin prickles from the loss of heat--as he covers his face, embarrassed by the words coming out of Lance’s mouth.

Wearing a large grin, Lance slowly pries Keith’s hands away from that pretty, pretty face only to be met with a harsh glare and cute pouting lips. He pushes Keith’s long bangs away from his face, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “One of the perks of dating me is my stellar jokes, now dog themed. Get used to it, sweetheart.”

“I want a divorce.”

Lance continues to grin, leaning in closer to say, “You have to marry me first,” before he captures Keith’s lips in a soft kiss. Keith whines when Lance pulls away again, lifting his head to chase after Lance. With Keith sitting up now, Lance wraps his legs around Keith’s waist, resting on his lap, and his hands twist into Keith’s hair. Inky black locks fall in between his fingers. “I must be pretty special if you’re already asking for my hand after sex.”

Keith scrunches his nose as he places his hands back on Lance’s body, gripping his hips for purchase. “I hate you.” 

“That’s an interesting way to start a proposal,” Lance laughs, cocking his head. “Get many guys with that line?”

Keith’s eyebrows pinch together while he contemplates his next choice of words. “You’re insufferable.”

“Hm, is that all?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows for an added effect, earning a snort of affection from Keith who shakes his head at the antics.

“You’re also bratty--”

“How flattering.”

“-- _and_ beautiful and caring.”

Pleased, Lance hums. “Is this what people call ‘ _puppy_ love’?”

Keith rolls his eyes, exaggeratingly slow, and Lance pulls on his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. “If I kiss you, will that shut you up?”

Lance taps his chin in mock-thought, allowing a few agonizing seconds to pass. “I think I can accept those terms.” 

Wasting little time, Keith trails kisses from Lance’s mouth, down his neck, and across his broad shoulders, sucking on skin here and there but being extra diligent to never break skin. These kisses do not, in fact, shut Lance up as he has to bite back several moans; Keith chuckles into his skin all the while. 

But Lance disregards trying to be silent soon enough, stuttering a gasp when something heavy presses up against his inner thigh. He stares at Keith, a little impressed. “Are you already that hard _again_?” Lance rolls his lower body as a test, watching Keith’s eyelids flutter, lashes casting small shadows on his pale skin, his swollen lips parted. He almost preens at the way he can bring Keith back to his barest instincts. “I know my jokes are amazing, but they should not be turning you on.”

“It’s not your lame-ass jokes, Lance,” Keith growls, instantly flipping Lance to be on his back, under him. Lance very much appreciates this new view--Keith’s hair tickling his nose, starlight eyes gazing at him, taking their time with him. “It’s you; it’s always you.”

“ _Oh._ ” Lance blinks, stupidly as if he didn’t already know. “Well we can work with that.”

Lance wakes to an empty bed and no Keith, blankets messy and the space beside him cold. Disappointment at the loss of cuddling time has a pout sliding onto his face. Sighing, he turns his head to find the clock, only to hear paper crinkling against his pillow, and realizes Keith stuck a sticky-note to his forehead. Very romantic.

 _Morning run_ is all it says in Keith’s messy script but that’s good enough for Lance--there’s even a half-assed attempt at drawing a heart that Lance finds too cute to be normal. 

Mostly, he just wonders how long it’s been since Keith left. Despite his body being more intune with the moon, Keith has always been an early riser, attending 8 am classes and not choosing the normal noon or beyond time slots. Lance wouldn’t doubt Keith left at six am like a psycho. Maybe even before the sun rose, the moon making its last rounds before disappearing for the day. Keith probably looks beautiful during the dawn--but even that’s not enough incentive for Lance to join him on morning runs.

The clock only reads 7:50 and Lance internally curses whatever sound made him wake early, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes in order to angrily will himself back to sleep.

It doesn’t work.

Stepping out of bed and onto the cold floor, a shiver racing up from the soles of his feet, he throws on the shirt Keith wore yesterday and a fresh pair of boxers, proceeding out of the bedroom to at least start the day doing something useful.

Lance's boyfriend walks through the door to discover him belting out a song blasting through the speakers as he cooks breakfast. A few pancakes are on a plate next to him, bacon on the stove, bread in the toaster. He sways his hips when the rhythm calls for it, using the spatula as a microphone, though he is careful to avoid the hot grease on it.

With his back turned, Lance misses the incredibly soft smile on Keith’s face that would have buckled his knees. He doesn't hear Keith's too quiet footsteps over the sound of sizzling bacon and startles when arms wrap around his waist.

"Could smell this from the street. Made me hungry," Keith murmurs, burying his face into the crook of Lance’s neck. Lance’s body immediately loosens, sagging against Keith’s chest.

“That was the intended effect,” Lance says, continuing to hum to the music while flipping over a few pieces of bacon. 

Keith runs his lips up Lance’s neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and stops near the shell of his ear. “You look good in my shirt.”

Cheeks tingling as they prickle with blush, Lance focuses his gaze on the food before he does something foolish. “It’s going to be your fault if I burn this.”

As if hearing some type of challenge in that statement, Keith’s hands slide underneath Lance’s shirt. They lie flat on his stomach, and his entire body convulses from the stark chill emanating from Keith’s hands.

“Wha-fuck!” Lance screams as he jumps out of Keith’s embrace, heart pounding, and even though the offending hands have left his body, he wouldn’t doubt that there is frostbite on his skin. He has enough sense left to turn off the stove, and whips around to see Keith struggling to hide his amusement. “That was mean!” Lance scowls, waving the spatula at him. 

Merely shrugging, Keith doesn’t even attempt to wipe that smug grin off his face.

He also hasn’t changed out of his workout clothes yet, wearing a loose tank-top and joggers. His long hair has been drawn up into a high ponytail that sways whenever Keith moves his head, though a few strands have fallen free. Lance wants to tug on it, elementary school instincts, and the need for revenge, resurfacing.

Sunlight catches onto the elegant burn scar that races up Keith’s right cheek. Lance knows the injury was caused by a silver-bladed knife, but he is honestly too scared to ask for further elaboration and has let the story lie dormant for now. There’s a lot about Keith’s past he is not privy to--he’s only known the man for about a year and they only started dating last week.

That doesn’t mean Keith is going to spill all of his horrifying secrets over a cup of coffee now. Not that Lance cares. The past is the past. As long as those secrets aren’t some weird sex kinks, they’re golden.

Fingers twitching, Lance can’t fight it anymore and bats at Keith’s ponytail.

Keith furrows his brows as he eyes Lance’s triumphant expression. “What are you, a cat?”

“It’s _cute_ ,” Lance defends himself, returning to the breakfast he prepared, laying it out on the island where they eat. Settling himself onto one of the stools, he looks up at Keith. “Even when you’re a big meanie, you’re still unfairly cute.”

Keith doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that, mouth parting to comment but decides against it as he sits down to eat. About halfway through their meal is when he attempts to start up the conversation again, apparently having gained back enough sense. This jostles Lance back into reality and out of the daydream he had been blissfully stuck in--and yes, it featured Keith.

Gesturing to Lance with his fork, Keith asks with a curious expression, “How were you so flexible last night?”

It’s so random that Lance has to believe that this question has been rolling around in Keith’s head, digging at him, enveloping any other thought. A shit-eating grin consumes Lance’s face. “You liked that, huh?” Keith only scowls at him, and Lance rests his chin on the back of his hands as he continues. “I told you I was a competitive cheerleader in high school, right? Won the state championship once too.”

Keith’s faces reddens the longer he remains silent until he hides in his hands; his ears, still visible, are a vibrant red for Lance’s amusement. “... _Fuck_. Why is that so hot?” Keith mumbles into the palms of his hands but Lance hears it all perfectly.

“Thanks for noticing,” Lance winks, which sends Keith reeling into complete silence again as he tampers down his blush for the rest of the meal.

Lance absolutely adores this man.

Keith cleans up when they finish; Lance, having cooked, just sits and watches. Watches as Keith bends down to load some of the dishes into the dishwasher, watches the curve of that ass against his pants. Lance is not ashamed by the whistle that leaves his tongue.

“Have I told you how terrible you are?” Keith asks, looking at Lance over his shoulders, an eyebrow raised enough that it disappears completely into his fringe.

“Terribly handsome, maybe.” Lance flashes a coy smile. 

“I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“You flatter me too much. Please continue.” Keith mirrors the smile on Lance’s face as a chuckle escapes from him, much to Lance’s pleasure. His smile never drops even when Keith turns back to the sink.

Having finished washing the dishes, the last plate drops into the dishwasher rack, and the faucet handle squeaks as the water shuts off. When Lance watches Keith’s shoulders hunch, his fingers curling around the edge of the sink, he almost calls out in worry, but Keith speaks first. “I need you to stay away from me next week.”

“Excuse me?” Lance asks, voice slightly too high as he swallows the panic he feels. Because Lance thought they got along well last night--they have been throughout the week they’ve been official, not to mention the full year they’ve spent in each other’s company, slowly moving from strangers to best friends. To think Keith may already be sick of him...

Wincing from his own blunt word choice, Keith turns around, quickly dispelling Lance’s concerns with two words. “Full moon.”

Lance releases a breath, mentally recording that he needs to start keeping track of these things. He wonders if there’s an app for tracking werewolf transformations or, at least, lunar phases--maybe Pidge can make one. When he nods his head in understanding, Keith finally relaxes, releasing the tension his body had absorbed.

Hating the island separating them, Lance walks around to stand in front of Keith. Even though Lance swears he has at least three inches on Keith, they are about the same height, allowing Lance to see directly into Keith’s soul. Gray-violet eyes stare inquisitively back at him, waiting for whatever Lance is forming in his mind. “I do want to know if this is just you being stubborn about me not seeing that side of you--because we already know I’ve seen you transform? Or if this is legitimately a private thing? Which I am more than happy to respect. But I am here for you, Keith,” he says as he places his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Whether as a friend or partner. You’re not alone.” _Anymore._

Last month had been when Lance discovered Keith’s secret. 

It happened at a party Lance may or may not have dragged Keith to, not understanding that him trying to weasel out of going was for a genuine reason and not because he was a stick-in-the-mud. But Keith always caves when Lance is around, and Lance’s happiness blinded him to how Keith would flinch at every sound, eyes often staring at the sky as if waiting for something.

Later, Keith would tell Lance that since it was only the first day of the cycle he thought he could have contained the transformation until he made it back to his apartment--or just ditch Lance the second he felt the beginning effects. He had forgotten how much of an igniter stress can be on the process.

Lance may or may not still feel guilty about all of that. He also may or may not have nightmares about the first time he saw Keith transform, the sound of bones popping, skin shifting, a soundtrack to his dreams now. 

He had watched over Keith for those three nights, not wanting to leave his friend alone, unsure what the fuck was happening. Keith was never fully conscious during the day, always sleeping off his transformation, his body recuperating before the wolf-form took hold again. Which, after Lance’s heart had calmed down to a reasonable rhythm for someone who just discovered his crush is a werewolf, he could admit that it was beautiful. A sleek, dark-furred wolf blinked back at him with Keith’s violet-gray eyes. He was perhaps a little bigger than a normal gray-wolf but Lance never did fear the creature before him.

Keith stares at his socked-feet, dragging them in patterns on the tile. “I just… don’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me last month,” Lance replies honestly, his voice soft, hand tenderly cupping Keith’s face. 

As a wolf, Keith had initially bared his teeth at Lance, deep, threatening growl in the back of his throat, viewing him as another male invading in his territory, but once he was able to scent Lance, he quickly calmed down. He became almost as docile as a really friendly golden retriever, but that is a secret Lance keeps to himself.

“I almost did,” Keith quietly confesses, frowning at the fragmented memory--as Lance understands, he doesn’t retain much when he shifts back, just emotions, sensations… the intent to kill.

“But you _didn’t_.” Allowing a subtle smile to reveal itself, Lance quips, “You’re just a big cuddly puppy; I can handle you.”

Keith’s mouth drops. “You take that back.”

“Sorry, you’re a ferocious, man-eating beast. I tremble at the mere thought,” Lance dryly corrects himself.

Keith cards his hand through Lance’s hair, musing it as he goes, and gently plays with the ends at the nape of his neck. “Are you sure you’re okay looking after me? It’s a long three days. You’ll miss classes.”

“Having someone there is better than chaining yourself up in your own apartment, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith replies, shy and afraid to admit it. When he ducks his head again, his bangs almost conceal his entire face. Lance gently coaxes Keith to look at him and he tucks part of those bangs behind his ear.

Lance places a soft kiss on Keith’s forehead, lips lingering before he says, “I _want_ to do it.”

“Alright,” Keith finally concedes, but he smiles as if he’s won--Lance wonders how long it’s been since someone has actually cared enough to help out his boyfriend. Too long, apparently. “But if you even get a single bruise from this, I’m doing full moons solo from there on out.”

“It’ll take more than your overgrown puppy-form to knock me down, babe.”

In hindsight, Lance probably should have seen the revenge-tickling coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re interested in a part 2, let me know in the comments (and/or subscribe)… I kinda have some more ideas for this AU if there’s interest.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith soon moves on, kissing Lance’s jawline, and pays extra special attention to his neck. Lance stills as he feels Keith’s nose rub up and down his skin. “Are you… are you scenting me? As a human?” 
> 
> Pulling back embarrassed, Keith doesn’t even look at Lance, flipping over to be the little spoon without much of a sound besides, “Shut up.”
> 
> “Aw, it’s cute, babe. Don’t feel bad.” Lance curls up against Keith’s body, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist. 
> 
> (or Lance does not have a grand ol’ time dealing with Keith’s werewolf problems)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it really a werewolf fic without at least one reference to Teen Wolf? 
> 
> Hope you enjoy pt 2:)

Dog-sitting his boyfriend has been proceeding rather smoothly for the last few months that Lance should have realized something disastrous would happen. And by that, he means, three disastrous things happen in succession. 

Keith, in his human form, is more rowdier than normal (maybe slightly more hornier too, but Lance won’t complain about that). He clings a lot, always having an arm wrapped around Lance’s waist or holding hands no matter what, no matter the inconvenience (like when Lance’s hands are full of grocery bags)--again, Lance isn’t complaining; it’s more an observation of abnormal behavior and what Lance will later dub as ‘disaster one.’ 

He doesn’t mind a more touch-affectionate Keith, but that doesn’t stop him from giving Keith a weird glance out of the corner of his eye the entire week. 

“What is with you today?” Lance tries to say in the most loving way when he actually has to pry a very cuddly, and whiny, Keith away from him so he can get out of bed to pee.

Keith has to mull over that for a moment, teeth pulling on his lower lip. “Probably antsy from the full moon.” He shrugs, answering once Lance returns. 

Having emptied his bladder, Lance crawls back under the warm covers and to the inviting arms of his boyfriend. “Makes sense,” he mumbles as he snuggles up real close. Soft lips press against his forehead, trailing down to his cheeks, and momentarily stops at Lance’s lips as Lance pulls Keith in closer. Their legs tangle together.

But Keith soon moves on, kissing Lance’s jawline, and pays extra special attention to his neck. Lance stills as he feels Keith’s nose rub up and down his skin. “Are you… are you scenting me? As a  _ human _ ?” He is so fucking grateful werewolves do not scent-mark by peeing on things. 

Pulling back embarrassed, Keith doesn’t even look at Lance, flipping over to be the little spoon without much of a sound besides, “Shut up.”

“Aw, it’s cute, babe. Don’t feel bad.” Lance curls up against Keith’s body, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist. His face is practically buried in Keith’s long hair, but he doesn’t mind. They remain like this for the entire morning.

Disaster number two comes when Keith transforms--Lance desperately shakes those images from his mind. No matter how many changes he’s witnessed, they never get any easier to watch--and that energy he had in his human form translates. Keith as a wolf is usually very tame; he will follow Lance around the apartment and even silently sit with him on the couch as they watch some Netflix show Lance has been meaning to catch up on. Sometimes, now that the days are warming, Lance has even considered taking Keith out on a walk at night so he’s not forever cooped up in the apartment’s small square footage.

Tonight is a different matter altogether. 

Keith races around the main living area, claws scratching the hardwood as he goes, and almost knocks Lance down. He also almost bumps a few knickknacks off one of the bookcases--they dangerously wobble as Lance rushes to catch them if need be.

“What’s gotten into you?” Lance scolds the wolf. 

But of course Keith doesn’t answer, only eyeing Lance as he heads into their bedroom, and it takes Lance no less than a second to charge after him before Keith can do some real damage to their closet.

Lance tries to get him to settle down on the couch, which leads to Keith tearing at one of the couch cushions. Fluff settles all around him and in his fur like snow. Standing over his victim, the wolf looks proud of his accomplishment, having ferociously taken down a pillow as if it was some squirrel. Lance slaps a hand to his face, slowly dragging it down as he contemplates what to do. 

*

*

**Five months ago: October**

Lance rocks on the heels of his feet as he clasps his hands together, pleading, “Go with me, Keith. Please go with me.”

The man in question finally looks up from his notes. Bangs hang in front of his eyes though most of his long hair is tied back into a french braid. Which is hella cute but that doesn’t give Keith an excuse to weasel his way out of this one. “Aren’t Hunk and Pidge available?”

“Nah,” Lance shakes his head, “they have a big lab to prepare for tomorrow.”

“Isn’t there anyone else?” Keith grimaces, rubbing his temples before he drops his hand and stares at Lance. “ _ Anyone? _ ” They both know the answer to that.

Lance juts out his lower lip in a pout. “ _ Please?  _ It’ll be fun. And I promise not to leave your side the entire night.”

It takes Keith approximately 2.5 seconds to cave after Lance sets his puppy-eyed expression on him. When that long, exasperated sigh passes Keith’s lips, accompanied by a thin curse, Lance knows that he has won. “Fine. But you owe me.”

Lance holds out his pinky to seal the deal. “Anything for you, darling.”

They last about ten minutes at the party. Keith constantly fidgets at his side, fingers tapping on his red solo cup, and Lance almost has the courage to just reach out and grab his hand. He knows Keith hates parties, and honestly, the fact that he is willing to brave it just for Lance has him falling for Keith that much more.

Out on the front porch of the frat house, the cold breeze whips through Lance’s hair, nipping gently at his skin with the first touch of winter air. The full moon is bright and beautiful before him but even it can’t draw Lance’s attention away from the man beside him. 

Keith’s profile is bathed in the silver light. His hair hangs free around his shoulders, the wind dancing through the strands every so often, lifting them off his neck. His eyes, mostly shadowed by thick bangs, are filled with starlight, and Lance is completely mesmerized. 

It's not a surprise that Lance has developed a crush on Keith--he's always been weak for pretty and incredible people--and he's not that shocked that it turned from school boy crush to full blown 'help, I've fallen in love with you and can't get up.' What does surprise him though is that over these past few weeks, he kind of feels like Keith has a thing for him too. 

That might be crazy talk. 

But tonight feels different for some reason.

“Why are you staring?” Keith whispers but doesn’t turn his head to match Lance’s gaze.

Lance immediately whips his eyes back to the night sky, flush blooming on his cheeks. Usually he doesn’t get caught; usually Keith isn’t so observant. “Sorry,” Lance says, unwilling to divulge the true reason. 

Keith’s mouth pops open as if to interrogate Lance more but instead a pained sound echoes right beside Lance. He turns to watch Keith’s face contort in agony, breathing suddenly ragged as his body curls into itself. His drink spills on the ground. “Bring me home,” he gasps out. 

Taken aback, Lance asks, “What?”

Keith suddenly doubles over, grabbing at his stomach as if he’s about to puke--he knows Keith is a lightweight but one beer has never affected him this much before. Lance catches Keith before he falls. There’s already sweat on Keith’s forehead and Lance takes a moment to brush some of his long hair out of his face. A startled gaze locks onto Lance. “I--I need to g-go now!”

Lance doesn’t question Keith a second time. Supporting most of Keith’s weight as he slings Keith’s arm over his shoulder, they hobble out of the house together. Keith, not being able to do much of anything, slows down their pace considerably but eventually they make it to where they parked. 

They rode here on Keith’s motorcycle, but luckily, Keith had been giving Lance lessons lately. Lance only hopes that he has retained enough since Keith clutches onto him for dear life, face ashen, and thus unable to provide any assistance. They arrive just in time.

Keith empties his stomach contents on the sidewalk before they walk into his apartment complex. Rubbing his back, Lance holds Keith’s hair as he heaves dead air, eventually allowing Lance to bring him inside.

They stumble into Keith’s apartment--after Lance literally had to grope around Keith’s pockets to find his keys because Keith couldn’t do much of anything at the moment--and to Lance’s surprise, he is pushed away.

“Get the ch--chains,” Keith forces out, his breathing becoming strained, and weakly points to a hope chest behind the couch.

Lance is too shocked to move, eyes locked onto Keith who looks to be in absolute agony as his face twists into an unknowable expression. He doesn’t know what to do but chaining up Keith does not sound right. “--the  _ fuck _ , Keith?”

“I ca--can’t hol--” 

A beastly roar rips from his throat that has Lance scampering back into the wall, so hard that he stumbles and falls to the floor. Keith’s body begins to contort, bones popping out of sockets, moving under his skin as if to form a new shape.

“ _ Run _ ,” is the last word Keith spits out before he completely vanishes and a black-furred wolf with violet eyes stands where he had once been. Tattered clothing is scattered around the hardwood and the wolf shakes himself as if having to get used to the new form.

Lance only has a moment to breathe before the creature begins to stalk forward, having realized he’s not alone.

The wolf bares his teeth at Lance, sharp canines ready to rip out his throat in full view. Lance knows he should be running for his life right now--his heart is already way ahead of him--but his brain doesn’t let him forget that this wolf is actually Keith. And he  _ knows  _ Keith.

So, like an idiot who will probably make the front pages tomorrow, Lance just sits there, eyes and head pointed to the floor to show submission. He allows the wolf to be in control of the situation and soon he feels the wet brush of a nose bumping into his cheek. Hot breath plasters Lance’s skin as the wolf begins to scent him, nuzzling into Lance’s neck and clothes.

The touch is beyond gentle, and Lance dares to lift his gaze to find the wolf staring at him, tail wagging against the floor as if he is a domesticated dog.

A laugh bubbles up in Lance’s throat despite the situation. _I knew you would never harm me,_ he almost says out loud. The wolf seems pleased by this as his ears perk up in the most adorable way.

Accepting whatever sound Lance made as an invitation, the wolf-- _ Keith, _ he has to remind himself--plops his head in Lance’s lap, unconcerned with what almost happened. Lance cautiously, almost robotic-like, pats the wolf’s head, eyes wide as he tries to understand everything. 

*

*

Eventually Lance gets Keith to calm down with the sounds of his favorite TV show, his energy level returning back to normal. Lance sighs in relief as he pointedly stares away from the cushion he’ll have to figure out how to mend--he refuses to let Keith blame this on him when he transforms back. Around midnight, Lance deems that it’s time for both of them--well mainly himself--to go to bed. 

The wolf waits patiently outside of the bathroom as Lance flies through his nightly routine, applying a face mask then moisturizing, and multitasks by brushing his teeth at the same time. 

Keith climbs into bed with him and Lance’s arm curls around the wolf’s body--Keith makes for a good pillow in this form, his fur so soft against his cheek. He does not expect, however, to wake up in the same position to find out that his boyfriend has not shifted back. 

Which is how we come to disaster number three.

Keith remains a wolf throughout the entire day as well as into the next.

At first, Lance assumes it is some type of fluke. He’s only been watching over Keith through four full moons, maybe not shifting back right away is more common than he thought. Keith never really gave him helpful instructions for if things go wrong--mainly just stating that Lance should run if he ever feels in danger. But Lance isn’t scared; Keith remains (mostly) as he usually does.

So he lets his worry simmer for the day.

The second day of Keith not transforming back finally causes warning alarms to ring through Lance’s head. 

Scrolling through Keith’s emergency contacts, he picks the first name at the top of the list, watching Keith aimlessly wander around the room looking bored. 

“Keith, what’s up?” a deep voice asks.

“Uh, this isn’t Keith…” Lance rubs the back of his neck. “I’m Lance, the boyfriend.”

“Oh. It’s nice to finally meet--hear from you.” The man pauses. His contact had labeled him as Shiro and Lance has a recollection of Keith mentioning him as a really old friend once. “Is something wrong?”

Lance isn’t quite sure how much he should divulge--if Keith even would want him to divulge anything. Seeing Keith remain a wolf throughout the day has been freaking him out so he goes for it and hopes Keith won’t be pissed (Lance really just wants his boyfriend back). “Kinda… do you know that he’s--”

“A werewolf? Yeah,” Shiro easily finishes his sentence, and Lance breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Ok so he hasn’t changed back since the first night and I’m a little freaked out because this can’t be normal,” Lance says in one big gush, twisting the bottom of his shirt in his hand.

Shiro is silent for a moment. “Alright, that is a problem. Bring him to the address I text you.”

*

*

**Five months ago: October**

Google is his friend, that’s what Lance discovers once morning comes and Keith returns to being human. He sleeps off the transformation as Lance carries him to his bed to have a proper rest, gallantly draping a blanket over Keith’s lower half, blushing all the while. This is not the way he thought he would get to see Keith naked.

With Keith’s messy hair practically covering his entire face, Lance runs his fingers through the strands, pushing them away and gazing at the face of his year long crush. Dark lashes hover over pale cheeks; there’s a light splattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose that Lance is ashamed to admit he has never noticed before. 

Eyes trekking across Keith’s features, he searches for answers.

It looked painful, unnatural… whatever it was. Lance winces at the memory. 

“What the hell happened to you?” Lance mumbles to the unconscious man, whose breathing is steady, a pleasant expression on his face. His eyes do not frantically move behind closed lids, allowing Lance to assume Keith is not experiencing any nightmares from the ordeal at least. “You always like giving me a heart attack, don’t you?”

Taking his own position on the bed to watch over his friend, Lance nabs Keith’s laptop to start researching. It takes him about a second to designate his friend as a werewolf and spends the rest of the time reading myths about them.

Now he knows why Keith has always disappeared for two to three days every month, why, in some instances, Lance would catch odd shaped bruises around his wrist as if he had been handcuffed too tight.

(Ok yes, so initially Lance assumed Keith was having hardcore sex with someone every month but that’s besides the point.)

When Keith stirs for a few moments hours later, Lance coaxes water down his throat.

“You stayed?” Keith mumbles, sleepily, and eyes blinking, about to fall back asleep any moment. 

A small smile slips onto Lance’s face as he gently cards through Keith’s hair. “Of course.” Not thinking, Lance leans down to place a quiet kiss on his forehead. “I’m always here for you.” But Keith is already asleep by the time Lance lifts his head again.

He might pull an Edward Cullen and watch Keith while he sleeps--out of worry of course, not because he’s soft. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore,” Lance whispers to Keith and he swears he sees a small smile tingle on Keith’s lips. 

*

*

“Come on, Keith. Get in the car.” 

Lance would chalk this scene up to disaster number four if this wasn’t a normal thing dogs do. And he knows the wolf hates to be given orders. Keith stares back at him with innocent eyes, a slight tilt to his head, as he sits on the sidewalk. Lance swears he’s smirking.

“Get in the car, Keith; I swear to god.” Lance runs a frustrated hand through his hair and then gestures to the open car door. “I’m trying to  _ help  _ you.”

It’s about at this time when a woman, walking her own dog--a corgi, which is admittedly very cute--overhears Lance’s cries. She doesn’t seem to take a second glance at Keith, maybe assuming he’s a large husky, as she analyzes the situation. “My dog will only go in if given a treat. I’d try that. It will be good to train him.”

Keith softly growls at her and Lance pats his head to get him to shut up before he causes a scene.

Lance plasters on a strained smile, attempting not to be sarcastic with this nosy white lady. “Thanks. I never thought of that.” 

In the end, Lance has to scoop Keith up, almost topples backwards by the weight, arms straining around the squirming wolf, and ungracefully shoves him into the back.

Keith glares at him as he settles on the backseat; his ears flick in agitation. 

“Don’t give me that look. You forced me,” Lance says to him. 

The car ride is rather uneventful, but Lance bites his lip from commenting when Keith sticks his head out of the open window, mouth opened wide in what Lance supposes is a grin. With GPS on his phone, it only takes them twenty minutes to reach the intended destination. He blinks at the building’s sign. 

Lance really shouldn’t have been surprised that he ended up at a veterinary clinic.

*

*

**Five months ago: October**

“I owe you an explanation,” Keith says a couple of days later once the full moon has passed and he has regained more of himself.

Lance waves him off. “I already know you’re a werewolf by now. We’re all good.”

They sit in the library in an abandoned study room, sharing a chair that is definitely only made for one person but they make it work (mainly because there are no other chairs in the room and Lance’s butt was too lazy to walk out and grab another after having lost rock-paper-scissors). Lance would classify this as cuddling if they were dating--which is still a sad no--but Lance can sense his feelings pulling at his insides, wanting, needing him to confess. Watching over Keith for about three days brought them so much closer than before, and Lance knows he just has to take one last step. 

Keith’s eyes pin him in place; their studying has definitely hit a roadblock--Lance doesn’t even remember which question they were on. “You didn’t have to stay, much less for all three days.”

“I wanted to stay,” Lance says, needing Keith to know how truthful that statement is. “I was worried about you.”

“I guess I just don’t understand why. Any  _ sane  _ person would have run.” Keith’s gaze isn’t accusatory or angry, more curious. Maybe normal people run, but Lance has never admitted to being a sane person before. He brushes a lock of hair out of Keith’s face to see those gray-violet eyes more clearly. 

Here it comes, at last. “Unless you’re the dumbest person alive, you have to have known that I like you.”

For a moment, Keith’s widening eyes is the only movement he makes before he shoves his rapidly blushing face into his hands. “Oh god.”

“How did you  _ not  _ know?” Lance asks, astonished and gaping. Part of him isn’t sure if he should take Keith’s obliviousness as rejection. 

“I mean, I hoped,” Keith admits and instantly quells Lance’s former thoughts, “but you flirt with everyone.” 

Heart pattering, Lance says, “I only seriously flirt with you.” 

“It was hard to tell…” Keith defends himself, finally setting his beautiful eyes on Lance again, “Your pick up lines are just  _ so  _ bad.” Lance’s lips twitch in amusement more than annoyance at the brutal insult to his flirting abilities, which surprises even himself.

“Alright.” Clearly he has to do this the old fashion way, laying your bare feelings out in the open. Lance steels himself with a deep breath. “Keith, I really,  _ really  _ fucking like you, and before you get all self-deprecating, you being a werewolf is  _ not  _ a deal breaker.”

Keith opens his mouth as if to protest but in a split second seems to decide against it. He reaches for Lance’s hand; their fingers fold together. “I really fucking like you too, Lance.”

They won’t start officially dating until three-ish weeks later--midterms leave little time for romance--but this is a start Lance is very pleased by.

*

*

Keith growls at some of the dogs in the waiting room, who are rather shell shocked to find a wolf in their presence, which propels Lance to head straight for the back before a fight breaks out.

Lance reaches one of the larger exam rooms, spying a tall man with black hair and a prosthetic arm waving them over--this must be Shiro. Introductions are given quickly and he walks into the room to find it already occupied by somebody else.

Lance turns to Shiro who shuts the door, not even startled by this other presence. “Who’s she?”

“That’s Allura, one of the other doctors at this clinic.”

Lance taps his fingers together. “And she knows--”

“I do,” Allura answers, turning around to face him.  _ She’s stunning _ , is the first thought that passes through Lance’s mind. Thick white hair tumbles down her back, her dark skin flawless with two pink marks underneath her eyes that look like tattoos. “And just to have everything out in the open, I’m also a fairy,” she grins, moving her silvery white hair to reveal pointed ears. Lance nods for too long as his brain deciphers all the information presented to him--are there anymore supernatural creatures, ‘cause apparently fairies also exist? “Don’t worry, Keith is in good hands.”

“So you can definitely fix my boyfriend?” Lance pauses, shuts his eyes for a moment, and breathes harshly through his nose. “Poor choice of words for a vet.”

“I can see why he likes you,” Allura comments, a tilt to her head as she smiles in amusement. “And yes, not being able to shift back is not as uncommon as it might seem. It usually happens in younger werewolves though.” 

Lance bites his lower lip, still a little worried but overall relieved by the confidence these people exhibit. His hand absentmindedly finds Keith, fingers digging through his soft, thick fur to calm himself down.

“Keith will need to be on the table,” Shiro says as he looks over his instruments.

Lance directs his attention to the wolf, squatting to be more on his level. “Will you at least hop up on the table this time? I don’t want to lift you again.”

Unless it is a trick of the light, Keith rolls his eyes, gracefully leaping onto the exam table without another word from Lance. The table is large enough for him to turn around a few times before finding a comfortable spot to lie down. 

He acts like such a dog sometimes; Lance muffles a laugh. 

Keith rests his head on his front paws, waiting for them to make the next move. 

“Is Keith always like this around you?” Shiro asks. He seems to hesitate before he touches Keith, scratching behind his ears before he begins to examine him. Allura has a clipboard ready to take notes. 

“Y-yeah… he’s been calm since he scented me the first time,” Lance explains, lips quirked a little at the memory. With all the months that have passed, the terror he felt back then has been replaced with fondness. If he never saw Keith transform that one time, part of him has to wonder if they would even be together right now; it really helped to shatter that last wall between them. “Is that not normal?” 

“It’s not. I usually have to be at least five feet away from him and he’s always growling at me. It’s why he made me stop helping him during full moons,” Shiro says with a tight chuckle, “Werewolves can be very territorial when they shift, but apparently he doesn’t mind you.” 

“He almost bit off my hand once,” Allura supplies, with more humor in her voice than Lance would have expected. “But it makes sense; you’re his mate. He’d never harm you.”

A deep rosy blush graces Lance’s cheeks. He doesn’t correct them by elaborating that he and Keith were not even dating when Lance first found out. He’s never truly realized how strong Keith’s feelings for him actually are--it seems they are on the same page as each other in that department. 

Allura probably catches it though; she seems to be sharp about that type of stuff.

“Nothing physical is amiss,” Shiro says as he steps back from Keith. The wolf looks less than pleased at being poked and prodded but at least he’s behaving. “You’re up, Allura.”

Stretching her arms out in front of her, Allura cracks her knuckles. “With pleasure.”

It doesn’t take long for Lance to realize what’s different about Allura’s technique versus Shiro’s. Her hands glow blue as she touches Keith’s fur. The wolf’s body tenses upon contact but Allura soothes him in a quiet voice as she concentrates.

It’s magic… like  _ literal  _ magic. Lance finds himself gaping at this, more than when he found out Keith was a werewolf or Allura a fairy. Somehow he should have expected this and yet he didn’t.

“As I thought,” Allura says, concentration on her features. Her words break Lance out of his rambling mind, something that he is grateful for. “The supermoon threw his body out of alignment. This won’t be too hard to fix.”

Lance breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s great.”

She sends him a small smile. “He’ll be back to his usual grumpy self in no time.”

As Allura works her magic, that faint blue glow dusting every surface in the room, Lance finds himself next to Shiro and, wanting to strike up a conversation, he asks, "So how'd you find out Keith's a werewolf?"

Surprisingly, a sheepish expression slides onto the older man’s face. "Did Keith ever tell you how he got his scar?" Shiro has to tap his cheek because they both know Keith has too many to easily distinguish them.

Intrigued, Lance trains his eyes on Shiro, shrugging . "Just that someone attacked him once."

"That, uh... that someone was me. I'm an ex-werewolf hunter," Shiro explains, some guilt present in his expression, but before Lance can question what the fuck he just said, Shiro elaborates. "It’s kind of a shock to find out your best friend is the werewolf you were ordered to kill. So I ended up lying about his death and 'retired.'"

( _ Like in  _ Teen Wolf _? _ Lance initially wants to ask but knows that would be inappropriate.) __

"Oh." Lance is too shocked to say anything more. To think that there are people out there who would want to harm, no,  _ kill  _ the person he loves… he ignores the pit in his stomach; it’s been dealt with after all. “At least you did the right thing in the end.”

“What about you?”

Lance speaks before he remembers what his original question to Shiro had been. “I accidentally spilled my slurpee on him and his lecture notes; things spiraled from there.”

Shiro offers a kind smile. “I meant about Keith being a werewolf. Trust me, I remember that day very well. He wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“ _ Huh _ ,” Lance says with an inward chuckle before answering Shiro’s question again. “I may have forced Keith to go out to a party on a full moon… I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

“There we go,” Lance suddenly hears Allura whisper. Both him and Shiro walk closer, watching as she makes one final round; Keith himself looks like he has fallen asleep. Her magic dims when she finally pulls her hands away and dark bags hang under her eyes. “He should be better now. Transformation will take a few moments though.”

“Go rest, Allura,” Shiro tells her once she starts to waver on her feet. “You were great.” She mutely waves goodbye to both of them as she heads for the door and, presumably, to some couch in the staff room. 

In the split second it had taken Lance to say thanks, Keith had already transformed back.

Lying naked on the exam table, Keith blinks as he focuses his gaze around the room. “Where… am I?” He grimaces and then digs the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Ugh, why does everything hurt?”

Lance rushes to him immediately. Keith’s eyes widen in surprise at Lance, as if he didn’t realize he would be here, but soon his expression softens, leaning into Lance’s touch. With Keith’s hair falling loose to his shoulders, Lance begins to run his hands through it, a soothing gesture if anything but also to work through that bedhead (wolfhead?) and tangles. Keith’s eyes flutter closed at the attention, a sigh on his lips.

Shiro, walking up behind Lance, graciously hands Keith a spare set of clothes from his own gym bag. “You were just in your wolf form for almost forty-eight hours. Your body has to adjust.”

As if having gone deaf for a moment, Keith hops off the table with no care only for his legs to collapse under him. Lance hooks his arms around Keith’s body before his boyfriend hits the cold ground. His warm hands lay gently on Keith’s trembling body. “What is it about you and not listening to people?” Lance admonishes him. “First the couch, now this.”

“What happened to the couch?” Keith asks, with a slight glare and a raised eyebrow.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Lance quickly says. 

Keith only shakes his head, dropping the question--it’s not like he won’t find out soon anyways; Lance doesn’t doubt that there’s still stuffing somewhere on the floor. When Keith lifts his head, leaning in slightly, wanting to be subtle but definitely not, Lance knows what he’s yearning for. So he places a finger on Keith’s lips, stopping his boyfriend in his tracks.

Lance cracks a smile before the teasing lines leave his tongue. “I’d really like to kiss you, babe, but your dog breath is terrible.”

Keith whips around to face Shiro. “Do you see what I have to put up with?”

Shiro sends him a smile. “Yeah, and I’m happy for you.”

In the car on the way back home, Keith rests his head on Lance’s shoulder with their hands clasped together. It’s a rather warm afternoon for March and the windows are cracked; there is enough space to allow the breeze to push through into the interior. 

“I’ve been wanting to thank you,” Keith says with his eyes trained on the road.

“You know you don’t have to.” 

“You do too much for me, Lance,” Keith plainly remarks, “So shut up and take the gratitude you deserve.”

Grinning with a short laugh, Lance’s gaze veers slightly to the right, or as much as driving will allow, to see Keith. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” Keith starts to say, his hand tightening around Lance’s for a moment. There’s one beautifully long pause before he announces, “I love you. I just felt you needed to know that.”

Lance, honest to god, pulls the car over before he goes into cardiac arrest and crashes. “W-what?” he stammers, whipping his gaze fully onto Keith now.

A too smug expression for someone who was just a dog for two days wraps around Keith’s face. “You must be the dumbest person alive not to have realized.”

“You’ve been waiting to use that for five months, haven’t you?” Lance accuses him, flabbergasted. 

“Maybe.”

Lance’s eyes search Keith’s expression for a reason he doesn’t even know. He’s never felt so light before--it’s almost daunting.

“I love you so much that I can’t even be mad.” Leaning forward, Lance presses their foreheads together, his hands burying themselves in Keith’s hair. But to ruin the moment, he manages to slap a hand on Keith’s face before that mouth can come any closer. His eyes sparkle as Keith glares. “I’m still not going to kiss you though. Should have taken the option of the dog toothpaste Shiro offered.”

Keith sticks out his tongue in defiance. “You suck.”

Lance smirks. “Yes, one of my finer talents, apparently. As you’ve vocally expressed on many occasions.”

Allowing his head to rest once again on Lance’s shoulder, Keith groans with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith, ranting to Shiro: and this jerk just dumps his drink on me and my notes. Like what the fuck? I never did anything to him. And what gives him the right to be so beautiful, huh? Who does he think he is?? No asshole guy should be that attractive; it’s unfair [insert ten more minutes of this] 
> 
> Shiro, inwardly: if there’s a god, pls strike me down now
> 
> \----
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe... and remember to wash your hands! 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos:)


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